


Anachronism

by catbru



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Obligatory 'Character Wasn't Originally Cursed In Canon But Now Is' fic, Season Two Divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbru/pseuds/catbru
Summary: She was an anachronism, an errant bit of temporal detritus. (A story with originalcurse!Milah.)





	Anachronism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PawShapedHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawShapedHeart/gifts).



> I told PawShapedHeart that I had this idea but I probably wouldn't do the thing. She told me to _do the thing omg!_ So, with her evil enabling ways, I did the thing.
> 
> This isn't a case of 'I wish this had happened instead' but more of a 'I am greedy and wish this happened _as well._ ' Fortunately for me Alternate Universes exist! (Also I had intended for this to end one way and the character refused.)

_‘He is_  highly _unpredictable. I get the feeling…you might come in handy if he tries to cross me.’_

 _'I hardly know who this Hook is.’ She thought she might look small, shivering on the cold stone slab and covering herself with her arms and legs to keep what little warmth she could trapped against her naked skin. She certainly_ felt _small, struggling for breath and struggling against the pounding of a heart she had believed to have been torn away._

 _The Evil Queen shrugged and held up a long lock tied at the end. The ribbon was worn with age but the hair still gleamed even in the dim light. 'Apparently he knows you. Very well by the looks of it. Otherwise, why bother preserving_ this  _with an enchantment?’_

_—_

Evelyn prefered the night shift. It was more quiet than days in relative terms and the family members who were there were usually tucked in cramped chairs trying their best to sleep or, at the very least, pretending to avoid worrying themselves insane. It made it easier to do her job, a profession she found more suiting in a purgatory of ironies, and it made it easier to avoid the troublesome nuisances the town’s heroes and villains continually found themselves getting into.

Before the curse broke the rooms were usually empty save for the need for stitches or other such minor ailments with the odd exception here and there. After, the small rooms with beeping machines were used more often. It was one of the downfalls of a clock that moved again.

When she went to the nurse’s station she was surprised to see her name wasn’t on the board. She had the date right, she knew. Yesterday had been her night off, her time spent between reading a book, cleaning her house, and wallowing in the recent reminder how her curse had begun when for everyone else it had been lifted. Another downfall of a ticking clock.

“Johnson.” She turned to glare at the head nurse. The older woman held up her hands. “You’ve been pulled from the roster for the next couple days. Dr. Whale wants to see you.”

“ _Whale?_ ” Aside from the comments he made to her, along with every female in ten feet of his person, she hadn’t even known the doctor was aware of her by name. With a sharp sigh and a roll of her eyes she pushed off the counter. “Thank you, Miranda.”

“Remember your pepper spray.”

It wasn’t uncommon to work in areas outside of one’s expertise in a hospital of this size. Or perhaps it was just the  _town_  that made it that way. Vague schooling she had never received told her this was unique. Still, barring emergencies, there was usually a warning.

Maybe that’s why she just barged into his office, hands on her hips with an impatient glower. His responding grin when he looked up from his paperwork had her eyes narrow even further.

“Evelyn! May I call you Evelyn?”

“No.”

“I must say, you’ve become an alluring shade of  _feisty_  since this whole mess of a curse lifted.” He leaned back in his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers. “You’re probably wondering why you were pulled away from your adoring fans in pediatrics.”

“The question  _had_ crossed my mind.” Her arms folded over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “You need to readjust your definitions of certain words, Doctor. What you call feisty, some would see it as pissed off.”

“Either way, the look suits you.” He studied her for a moment more. “It seems that a higher power than even myself has requested your tender mercies for a select patient.” His eyebrows raised. “You’ve heard what happened to the Frenche woman?”

“It’s a small hospital. I think even the patients know.”

“Well.  _Apparently,_  her assailant has been…uncooperative at best. He broke out of his handcuffs.”

“That’s not exactly difficult to do.”

His eyebrows rose and for a moment his gaze slid over her in contemplation before he continued. “One handed, drugged, and  _after_  getting hit by a car?”

Evelyn wanted to say she could still do it but she didn’t quite want to test out those circumstances. “Alright, I’m not going to say it’s impossible, but I will admit it seems unlikely.”

The doctor shrugged. “Yeah, well.” He tossed a file on his desk. “This is his. The…Scooby Gang? Savior Scouts? Whatever they’re going by. Do they even  _have_  a catchy team name? They should.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway. They’re keeping him tucked away, but that’s hard to do if he gets out.”

She picked up the file. Another John Doe. The file was vague but the medical jargon let her know what she needed to, the state of him, and the apparent elevated doses of tranquilizers needed. “You weren’t kidding about the one hand.” She looked up. “Why couldn’t the Other Johnson take care of this?”

“At first that’s who I thought she meant. He strikes more of an imposing figure. But, no, intimidating as he appears, he’s an orderly. Besides, didn’t you almost get arrested at the Rabbit Hole a few weeks ago? Something about introducing your fist to his face for some remark?”

She bristled at the memory. “Just because we have the same name doesn’t mean we have to share…other things.” Normally the much larger man was more or less a sweet guy. Add in one too many shots of tequila and he tended to get handsy. “So. I doubt my ability to lay out a man near twice my size has anything to do with this patient. So what  _does_  it have to do with me?”

“It seems our benevolent Madam Mayor thinks it might have a  _lot_  to do with you. She said, in that annoying and cryptic one liner she always manages at the end, that 'This is the reason I brought her back.’ I don’t know what that means, but I figured you might.”

She openly gaped for a moment. “For  _him_? Are you telling me this is  _Hook_?”

“I’m gonna go with  _yes_  on that one. If the actual  _hook_  he arrived with wasn’t a dead giveaway, the lovely Ms. Swan  _calling_  him that was a subtle clue.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.” She liked to pretend she had choices in matters sometimes. “I assume you want me to start now?”

“Well, unless you had other ideas…”

“Tell you what. You do you, I do me, and that way at least I know it’ll be done right.”

“Well, then. That was perhaps the nicest 'fuck off’ I’ve gotten in awhile. Enjoy your shift, Nurse Johnson.”

It was probably indicative of just how distracted she was if she could be mistaken for 'nice.’ But, despite her best attempts at otherwise, being pulled toward the fray of chaos had been inevitable. “You, too, Dr. Whale.”

Being a small hospital, there was barely any time to take guesses. Before she could get too far in her mental investigation with how little she knew, Evelyn was pushing her way into the hospital room before quietly closing the door behind her.

The room was dim, lit only by the machines and the moon filtering in through the window, but she could tell he was awake. That surprised her considering what the charts said they had him on.

She cleared her throat and walked toward him. “I hear you’ve been making things impossible for my colleagues. If you behave, I’ll give you a lollipop.” She normally worked with children and it was surprising how many times the incentive of a sweet worked on adults.

She checked the monitors before her patient, setting the file down and going through the motions of making sure lines were hooked up correctly. When she turned her focus on him, he jerked in the bed and her wrist was caught in his hand.

She drew in a sharp breath and, injured patient or no, she drew back her fist back to ward off attack. Then she faltered because she knew those eyes and a large thump resounded in her chest. “Killian.”

His eyes narrowed at her as he strained toward her. His sharp gaze was almost accusatory, nearly daring her to do something.

Her legs felt hollow and her arms had that weightless feeling that came from running for too long. For a split moment she forgot her own confusion on whether or not she was really who her mind said she was or just some store-brand knock off, forgot that her restless nights on whether she was just a copy through and through, soul and all, and that was why she refused to even call  _herself_  by her old name.

In that instant she wasn’t Evelyn or even the Evil Queen’s backup plan. She was  _Milah._

And then the moment was gone and she cleared her throat. She latched onto the professionalism born from false memories and the need to not delve head first into an overdue crisis of identity. It was made all the easier when he was practically trembling with the strain of the awkward position of leaning forward and pulling and tugging at just about every laceration, bruised muscle, and cracked rib along the way.

She placed her hand squarely on his chest with a gentle push, cringing as he winced. “Lay back or you’ll just be in here longer.”

When he did comply after a stubborn moment his grip on her wrist loosened and his eyes slid away from hers. She could breathe again but she missed that intensity and she could almost  _feel_  him drawing into himself.

Milah picked up the file and opened it. It was too dim in the room to see it clearly but what she could reminded her of what she had read. Turning on a light was an option but at this point not necessary. “You aren’t due for another dose of your medication for a few hours. I’ll see what I can do about getting the tranquilizers lowered.”

She closed the file and looked at him. “But if I do that and you try to escape again, I’ll just break your legs so the rest of you can heal.”

It had been a threat she used to make and it had been out of her mouth before she could even think. By the strangled little broken laugh he made, he recognized it.

It was a habit she had almost forgotten she had to soothe her fingers through his hair. He’d had a penchant for bad days much like herself. While he could handle them, had before she ever met him, quiet touches like this stolen in dark corners and away from curious eyes were her way of letting him know she was there.

He would heal, already was, but it would be easier if he would stop being stubborn. From the firm set of his jaw to the hard set of his drug-glossed eyes he was fighting against it. Only the nearly imperceptible lean into her touch told her  _maybe_  he would listen. “It’s okay to rest, Killian. Everything’s going to be alright.”

His answer was  a soft snort.

And it came over her then, that sudden urge to flee. She wanted more than anything to do what she could to just make it better but she wasn’t even sure it was really  _her_  that either one of them were seeing. “I’ll come check on you in a few– Just– Here’s a button if you need–”

She had stormed away from him more than once but she had never run away. At least it had only been a few feet and through a door.

Milah leaned heavily against the wall just outside his room as she tried to  _process._  Her question had been answered but now so many more were in its place.  _How_  could he even be here? She had left him behind centuries ago.

One thing was clear. She, copy or real, was obviously meant to be used as a pawn. Her lip curled at the thought.

But sometimes a pawn was used when it shouldn’t have been. The player would move a piece too soon, not thinking ahead, and it would take too long to get things back in their favor. She should have been brought into play  _after_  a man who hated magic was brought to town.

She hadn’t been. She would have done anything for her son, regardless of how he received her, would have worked just outside the peripheral to do what she could to help him. But right now, all she knew was that Killian was the only person she loved that was still alive. And without the loyalty of motherhood or any ties to a rebirth she never asked for, all that remained was the devotion of a pirate for her captain.

It wasn’t just because she loved him. Of all the ways that choices had been taken from her in her life and after, he had given her dozens more to make. And now, even without him realizing it.

Real or not she refused to be a pawn. She was an anachronism, an errant bit of temporal detritus, and she was damn well going to use that to her advantage.

Her sneer turned into a grin, wide and devious and for the first time since her death, full of glee.

—

_She was there again._

_She had been coming to him ever since they started filling him with whatever drugs it was that sent his mind into a haze and turned his body numb, darting out of his peripheral and offering her silent judgements. He wondered what sort of herbal concoction would do all this and also bring about visions._

_This time when he reached for her she did not disappear and her earlier condemnation was replaced by her own surprise._

_He knew why she kept coming to him in this room, splayed helpless and weak without even his hook. Despite her gentle hands and soft words now he knew she was_ really _there to remind him of his sins, that he had nearly killed an innocent woman._

_Well, the joke was on her. He would rather her be there and hating him than not there at all, even if she was just a product of his own mind._

**Author's Note:**

> Random Fact: Dr. Whale was so hard to write for until I realized he was pretty much a smarmy Flynn Rider. After that it got easier.


End file.
